


shabbos candles

by thescatterbrain



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Holiday, I love him, Jewish Character, M/M, Shabbat, Short & Sweet, also im once again projecting onto dan, theyre both jewish and you can pry that from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescatterbrain/pseuds/thescatterbrain
Summary: The candles burn low while Dan ruminates - over life, over Shabbat, over Herbert
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	shabbos candles

**Author's Note:**

> once again i wrote this bc i love dan and i will give him everything including judaism. shoutout to the discord server for giving such good ideas to write this from

"What's your name?" Herbert asked into the silence. His face was warmed orange by the candles, bright eyes flickering with the flame as he stared at Dan, who frowned back.

"What do you mean?"

"Your name," Herbert repeated, like it was obvious. "Your Hebrew name."

"Oh." Dan was quiet for a moment, watching the candles flicker in the dark room. He insisted they turn the lights off to light the candles. He had always liked how they shone in the darkness, even if he wasn't supposed to use the light. He would turn the bulbs back on later (even though he wasn't supposed to do that either). For now he just wanted to watch the candles dance. "It's Daniel."

"Just Daniel?"

Dan nodded, staring at the candles still. Herbert had sat quietly while Dan had covered his eyes and chanted the prayer, ingrained in his brain from years and years of Sunday school and his bar mitzvah. He still didn't know what the words meant. He never paid much attention when learning his Hebrew. "It means 'God is my judge'."

Herbert cracked a smile, ghostly shadows drawing out the lines of his lips. "Seems a bit on the nose, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose it does." He stood up, eyes suddenly feeling tired from watching the candles. He turned the lights back on. Herbert didn't comment. "My mom told me the meaning all the time. Said she picked it out for the meaning, because she wanted me to be a good person."

"Did it succeed?"

Dan didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed two wine glasses and a new bottle of red. He pulled the cork and poured, not really having the patience to let the wine air out. He wished they had some bread. That would make Shabbat feel whole.

He handed a glass to Herbert. "L'chaim," he said, just a bit sarcastically. The word, one of the few he understood, felt bitter on his tongue. _To life._ It felt like a joke to him, like he was being mocked for his and Herbert's continued failings. Herbert took a small sip while Dan drank half his wine in two gulps.

"You didn't answer me," Herbert said, shattering Dan out of his thoughts of a spiteful God and their stupid words. "Do you think you live up to your name?"

"I try."

Herbert's eyes glinted, still catching the flames of the candles even in the fully lit kitchen. He took another sip of wine.

"I dont have one," he said, voice clipped but still steady. Dan remained silent, watching Herbert stare at his wine glass. Herbert, who knew it was Friday night so he helped Dan pull out the new candles but didn't cover his eyes. "A name. I dont have a name."

"A Hebrew one." It wasn't a question.

"My parents didn't give me one. I don't think they remember their own."

"Do you wish you had one?" Dan wanted to sound as cool and collected as Herbert, but he felt a tremor in his voice. His wine sloshed in his glass and his hand just barely shook. He had no reason to be nervous, but the necklace from his grandfather that he kept hidden in his bureau upstairs told him otherwise. Even if he knew Herbert was like him, even if just a little bit.

Herbert was quiet for a long time. He swirled his drink as his brow furrowed, giving him the look of someone much older; a sage lost in time, ruminating over others' problems. "No," he said finally, quietly, "I think I'm better off without one." His eyes locked on Dan's, freezing Dan in place, stilling his wine. "I wouldn't want anything to limit me." 

"Limit you," Dan repeated, voice hollow. He stared at his wine, finding the rose-tinted reflection of himself staring back. His eyes were wide. It was Friday night. He should be ripping open a loaf of challah and butchering the melodies to prayers because his parents could never agree on which ones were right. He should be listening to his bubbe tell story after story of how she met his grandfather and smiling when she snuck him a piece of candy under the table. Instead Dan had lit the candles for the first time in a month and was sharing his wine with Herbert. His wine reflection continued to stare back at him. Blank. Glassy. 

He finished the drink.

"Don't go into the lab tomorrow," he said as he placed the glass in the sink. Herbert frowned at him. 

"Why not? We are very close to the end of our recent-"

"Please." Dan didn't feel like he was pleading. He felt like he was trying to save Herbert. Somehow. "It's Shabbat. We should relax."

Herbert's frown didn't budge. He took a slow sip of wine, sucking the droplets off his lip and sighing, exasperated. "What is your idea of relaxing?"

"I don't know. We could go out for a movie, or take a walk, or do anything but go into the lab."

"Dan-"

"I need, I don't know, a break? I need a day where we don't talk about the work and I don't have to drag you out of the lab to eat and we can just pretend to have a normal life."

Herbert didn't seem satisfied. Dan was waiting for him to snap, to yell about how Dan kept slowing down their progress, to throw the wine away and blow out the candles, but he didn't. Herbert glowered, but he didn't argue. "Just for tomorrow?"

"Just for tomorrow."

Herbert finished his wine. He handed Dan the empty glass, and Dan noted the slight color it had brought to his cheeks. "Fine. But we aren't going for a walk. I'm not a dog." Neither of them walked away. It would be pointless to; they existed together, in each other's space, nestled safely within each other's hearts and minds. Dan watched his fingers fidget with the stem of the glass. He couldn't believe Herbert had been so easy to persuade. Maybe he needed Dan the way Dan needed Herbert; safety, security, home. A scary, dark, unusually comforting version of home.

"Thanks, Herbert."

"Only for you, Danny." Herbert looked only mildly irritated and embarrassed that he had said that. He was getting better with it. 

It made Dan smile.

He graced Herbert with a kiss on the cheek, watching the color from the wine creep farther up his neck. "Next week," he said, placing Herbert's glass in the sink with his own, "we need bread. It's not the same without it."

"Next week can we work?"

"We'll talk about it."

Herbert all but rolled his eyes, but he seemed to deflate. Dan had that effect on him - Herbert was tightly wound and Dan was able to detangle all the knots. 

Dan looked over at the candles again, burning low and dripping wax onto the table. He forgot to put down aluminum foil under it. It was easy to forget after not lighting the candles for so long. Despite the mistakes - the dripping candles, the lack of bread, chanting by himself - Dan felt . . . peaceful. Happy. Complete. His fingers twitched as he slowly reached for Herbert's hand. Herbert let him take it, and Dan kept his eyes on the candles. They will have tomorrow. The wine will flow and Herbert will complain, but they'll have tomorrow just for them.

**Author's Note:**

> any antisemitic comments will be deleted <3


End file.
